


and tomorrow, Barcelona

by jarrow



Series: Team Sparia QPR [1]
Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Aromantic, Aromantic Aria Montgomery, Aromantic Asexual Spencer Hastings, Asexual Character, Best Friends, Extended Scene, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Queerplatonic Relationships, Team Sparia forever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 08:27:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28348407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarrow/pseuds/jarrow
Summary: A re-imagining of PLL where Spencer is aromantic asexual and Aria is aromantic. Two best friends discover an unexpected commonality.
Relationships: Spencer Hastings & Aria Montgomery
Series: Team Sparia QPR [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2088741
Comments: 16
Kudos: 6





	and tomorrow, Barcelona

**Author's Note:**

> A rewrite & extension of [this scene](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vGXScbSo16Y) from episode 3.09, aka the best scene.

Spencer and Aria were never close. Not really. More like two planets who orbited the same sun, always a safe distance from each other and keeping their focus where it belonged. After all, the biggest thing they had in common was their shared entanglement, both firmly caught in Alison’s unforgiving gravity. And when the sun suddenly disappeared, the girls were forced to turn to each other for warmth. Or perhaps, life support. Alison was a far cry from warm even on her best days.

Almost all teenage girls feel upset or left out when their friends find new romantic entanglements to take up their time. With Hannah and Caleb getting serious and Emily and Paige finding their footing, it was hard at first for Spencer and Aria to compartmentalize their feelings about changing group dynamics. There was always somewhere for Emily or Hanna to be, always a date or a promise to spend quality time that came first. So they were left to their own devices more and more often, and chose each other’s company over none at all. But while it may have started as a matter of convenience, it didn’t remain as such for long.

It happened gradually, and so organically that neither Spencer nor Aria realized the pattern until it was firmly established. Almost every day after school and the rare weekend day when they weren’t chasing after (or being chased by) A, Aria would come to Spencer’s house, or vice versa. Whoever’s parent was providing dinner that night. They’d study and gossip and write and hash out their conspiracy theories, or sometimes just sit on opposite sides of the room reading until the coffee ran out. It didn’t take long to discover that it was simply _easier_ when it was the two of them. 

They cared about their friends, even more so now that they’d survived so much together, but Hanna and Emily were a bull and a china shop, and they each required a certain amount of energy to keep in check. When the group was together, there was always a problem to solve. Always more danger to avert. But by themselves, Spencer and Aria could just be. They could be teenage girls who did normal things, like homework and shopping and watching movies and talking about whatever came into their heads. Even if Hanna or Emily were suddenly single again and more available to socialize, Spencer and Aria would still have chosen each other, every time. 

********

Spencer couldn’t be trusted to dress herself, at least not when it really mattered. Aria didn’t know the college student Spencer was meeting up with to discuss the prospective school, but there is no way any of the outfits Spencer unearthed from the clearance rack in Hell would be the right move. There probably wasn’t a blouse that said, “Spencer Hastings is easy-going and the life of the party (while also academically extraordinary).” Still, something had to be better than these blazers. _Anything_.

Not that Aria was paying much attention to the process. She couldn’t stop thinking about her parents’ divorce and how empty the house feels without her mother there. The weight of the absence was palpable, more so by the minute—but that might’ve just been the growing pile of rejected clothing Spencer was placing on top of Aria as she rested on Spencer’s bed.

“Kinda lying here despondently right now, Spence.”

“Well, can you just sit despondently? I need the bed.” 

“No—lying is more despondent.”

Spencer moved a few dark colored pieces from Aria’s stomach to her legs, as if to sort them by degrees of bleakness, left to right. “Please?”

“Okay, fine.” With a sigh, Aria sat up and slid back against the throw pillows. “Show me options.”

Spencer selected two jackets from the bleakest pile and held them up side by side against her chest. “Gray? Or blue?”

Aria’s mouth curled like when her dad used that stinky spice she hates. “Definitely neither.”

An unacceptable answer. “These are my two most collegiate looking blazers.”

“You did not just say that.” 

The situation was worse than she thought. Spencer didn’t have a lot of practice looking desirable, at least not intentionally, simply for never having wanted to. This was foreign territory for her, hence the ask for help, which had just been upgraded to desperate plea. 

Aria took a deep breath. “Spencer, you are gonna meet this UPenn guy at a party on a Friday night. Okay? So, I really don’t think the attire is business formal.” It was the nicest way she could put it.

Spencer let down her defenses, but only for a moment. “Did I mention how grateful I am that you’re coming with me?

“You mean you don’t want to go alone to some random party with a 22-year-old stranger?” Not that Aria would’ve let that happen even if Spencer hadn’t asked her to come along. Infiltrating a mindless herd of drunk college boys to seek the key to your entire future? This adventure required a top-shelf wingperson. And Aria would use those wings to beat the hell out of anyone who tried to make a move on either of them.

Spencer headed back to the closet and grabbed what looked like Viola Swamp’s dress from that Miss Nelson book she loved as a kid. _“She_ is not a stranger. She’s Ali’s older, gorgeous, very well-connected friend that…somehow we never knew anything about.” It sounded even more suspicious now that she’d said it out loud.

“Yeah,” Aria agreed, “Ali would’ve dangled her in front of us like a pair of diamond earrings. Why didn’t she?”

“I don’t know.” Spencer was lost in thought, gazing in the mirror at the black dress. It was short but not short enough. Still, it could work, and it meant this grueling process could be over. She turned to Aria, holding it up with a smile.

But Aria balked. “Is that your _mother’s?”_

“No!” It was a lie and they both knew it. 

Aria gave her best glaring head-tilt.

“Maybe…” Spencer confessed and threw the dress on top of Reject Mountain before hurling herself onto it as well. “Help. Please.”

They’d both seen this coming. 

With another sigh, Aria rolled off the bed and crossed the room to the closet, ready to work her magic. In less than thirty seconds, she had a cute white sleeveless top and a matching print skirt in hand. “Perfect. You’ll wear this.”

“Wow.” The girl was good.

Aria climbed back up and laid down next to Spencer. They both pushed the hair out of their eyes and stared at the ceiling like they’d done a hundred times before. The white paint served as a canvas, or a blank page, ready to be filled with their thoughts and jokes and stories and confessions. It allowed them to go anywhere together, away from this godawful town, as far as their imaginations would carry them.

Right now, Aria wanted to go home. Not to the house she would return to tonight—the glaringly empty shell that seemed so much bigger without her mother there. It would never be the same. She ached with the memories of when things weren’t all fucked up—when her parents were in love and Alison was safe and nobody was A and all she had to worry about was papers and tests. But that wasn’t possible. So, for now, she would stare at this ceiling for as long as she could. 

“You and Mike are gonna be fine,” Spencer said, reading her mind. “I promise.”

It was a sweet reassurance, so Aria met it with equal kindness. “If you say so. But you know how people talk in this town. Nobody respects a cheater. Everyone has an opinion about why _he_ stayed and why _we’re_ still living with him. When we all go out to dinner together, people look at us like we’re sitting with Voldemort.”

Spencer hummed in disagreement. “I see your dad as more of a Lucius Malfoy.”

“Ew, not if that makes me the sleazy blond kid,” Aria pushed back. “I hate that guy.”

“Right? But look, I get it. People get crazy about what they think is ‘proper’ and appropriate. Once my Nana offered me two hundred dollars to shave my father’s sideburns in his sleep, because apparently they were an ‘affront to his upbringing.’” 

Aria almost missed Spencer’s air quotes from laughing so hard. 

With a grin, Spencer added, “And he still has a scar, like, really close to his ear.”

Aria reached for her friend’s arm and gasped in disbelief. “Wait, you actually did it?!”

“I was ten! That was, like, a million dollars back then! Are you kidding?!” 

“Oh my god.”

They laughed together, getting lost in the visual of young Spencer with shaving cream all over her hands, and her angry father and the wad of beloved cash. It wasn’t until the giggle loop died down that Spencer lowered her voice and smiled. _“And I’d do it again.”_

“You are unbelievable.”

Spencer looked over at her. “I offer my services to you at a reduced rate, on account of being my best friend.”

“That’s very sweet. But don’t go spreading that story around. I bet Mike would pay you to shave my head.”

“I don’t think he could afford it.”

“Glad to know that’s the only thing stopping you. Remind me never to sleep in the same house as you ever again.”

Aria smacked Spencer’s arm with the back of her hand as they settled into a comfortable silence, letting the laughter fade away into the surrounding air. 

After a moment, Spencer fixated on a small flaw in the ceiling to give her herself something to focus on. If she made eye contact, she’d be too embarrassed to say it out loud. “We _are_ though, aren’t we.”

“What, going to the party?” Aria’s voice sounded light, like she worried Spencer might be chickening out. She wasn’t going to let that happen; it was too important. “Yeah, in a bit. We don’t want to get there too early.”

“No…we’re best friends.” Spencer risked a glance to her right and saw Aria smiling, pleasantly surprised by the statement. “You and me, not just the group.”

 _“I_ think so. But I’d be scared to say that in front of Ali, stupid as that sounds.”

“Then it’s a good thing she isn’t here,” Spencer said. It was an awful sentiment, but she didn’t care.

Aria thought for a moment. “Things look different now, don’t they? She had a really warped sense of what it meant to be close, or have someone’s back.”

“By making sure the knife in it was hers? At least that way when you were hurting, she was still in control.”

“Jeez, dark much?”

“Am I wrong?”

Aria took another breath. “No. It’s just…hard to believe that we were friends with someone like that.”

“Tell me about it.”

“But now that she’s gone…I don’t know, I guess I just feel like it doesn’t have to be that way with us.” Aria’s eyes found a new spot on the ceiling. “I spend time with you because I want to, not because I think I have to, or because I’m worried about what you’ll do to me if I don’t.”

“I’ll fill your locker with Cheetos. Just being transparent.”

“No, that’s fair.”

“I figured you were just stuck with me,” Spencer said. “Hanna’s off with Caleb, Emily’s got Paige, and you’re left with the neurotic geek who can’t dress herself. Lucky you.” 

“Hey,” Aria snapped back, “where is this coming from? If you’re nervous about tonight, don’t be. I’ll bet your birth certificate was printed on college admissions letterhead.”

“That’s not a thing.”

“Shut up and let me be nice to you.” Aria gave her Mom Face, and that always wins. “You’re gonna be great.”

Spencer drove her fingers into her hair just far enough that her palms covered her eyes, and held them there. “Ugggh. I’m sorry. This is stupid.” Her hands slapped back down by her sides as she continued to stare upward. “I just don’t know what I’m gonna do if this doesn’t work out. This is literally my whole plan.” She held her hands out, as if setting each thing in its place. “Graduate, go to college. After that, I have absolutely no idea. I need the planned part to happen so I have more time to figure out the rest of it.”

Aria turned onto her side and spoke with a softer tone. “Hey. There’s plenty of time. Okay? You got this. You’re being a doofus-head.”

“What are you, five?”

“No,” Aria said carefully, “if I were five, I would’ve done this—” She reached behind her head to grab a loose throw pillow and smacked Spencer in the face with it.

Gasping in shock, Spencer took the large pillow she’d been lying on and used both hands to wallop Aria with it at full strength. They exchanged a few blows, laughing and squinting and nearly falling off the bed. 

“Okay, truce, truce, truce,” Aria finally said, holding up a hand. “Jeez, did you take lessons with that thing?”

“A Hastings never reveals her secrets.” Spencer readjusted the pillow behind her and settled back into her original position. The mountain of rejected clothes still underneath her was annoying, but she felt too proud to go hang them all back up in her closet now.

Aria rubbed at a sore spot on her arm. “Maybe I should reconsider that best friend thing…”

Spencer balked and reached for her pillow again, but stopped when Aria hid her face behind her arms, shouting, “Kidding! Kidding! Jeez. I think there’s a dollar in my purse, go buy yourself a sense of humor.”

“Ha ha. Doof-head.” 

“It’s ‘doofus-head.’”

“Only a real doofus-head would know.” 

Still looking upward, Aria poked her in the side with a finger, and Spencer smacked her hand right back. They slap-fought for a moment, faces turned away, blindly smacking and poking and laughing, until finally calling another silent truce.

“I bet this is _exactly_ what Hanna and Caleb are doing right now,” Spencer said, and Aria laughed loudly.

“Please,” she said. “They’re not nearly as much fun as we are.”

After a moment, Spencer asked, “Does it make me an asshole that I’m glad Hanna and Emily are so busy all the time? Don’t get me wrong, I would bury bodies for any of you—”

“The way our year’s going, you might have to.”

Spencer hated that that was true. “Sometimes it’s just nice being with one friend at a time and not being in constant crisis mode.”

“No, I get it,” Aria said. “And maybe that makes me an asshole, too. I can only handle so much group time before my brain starts to melt.”

“And that’s just what A wants.”

“Well, _my_ confession is: I think part of why I don’t spend much time with either of them one-on-one is that I can only hear so many stories about how great their dating life is going. Then, again with the melting.”

“Because you’re jealous?” Spencer asked.

“God, no.” Aria’s eyes got all big like when someone wore socks with sandals. “I just don’t know what to say! ‘Good for you, you’ve found someone you can be all gooey-eyed with.’”

Now Spencer made a face. “Uh. I think it’s ‘googly-eyed.’”

“Whatever. Their eyes are gross, is the point.”

“I think just don’t look directly at them,” Spencer said. “So you don’t turn into stone.”

“Why are you making me sound like an asshole when you were the asshole first?”

“You’re the one saying their eyes are gross! I just said I liked spending time alone with you.” She added, dryly, “Thanks for showing me why.”

Aria ignored her. “Since when did being friends with someone mean all of your conversations now become about this other person? You’re happy, so yes, I am happy for you. But that doesn’t mean I need to hear every explicit detail of Caleb’s childhood drama or the four reasons why Paige is even worse at baking snickerdoodles now than last year. Some things should stay just between the two of you, for everyone’s sake.”

“Right? It’s like people forget how they talked to you before they got into a relationship. And I get that you want to talk about your partner all the time, but please consider that they are ten times less interesting to anyone not dating them, and maybe find other things to sprinkle into the conversation, too.”

“Thank you!” Aria sat upright for emphasis. “Is it really so hard?” She fell back with a soft thud on the pillows.

“Apparently.” Spencer let a beat pass, then said, softly. “I think it just frustrates me because I feel stupid for not understanding it.”

“What part?”

“Any of it?” It was supposed to sound like a joke, but it wasn’t, and thankfully Aria didn’t laugh. Spencer found the flaw in the ceiling again and fixated on it. “I get wanting to spend a lot of time with someone you click with, but why does that also mean you want to see each other naked and rub your mouths and bodies together and then say that automatically makes them the most important person in your life?” Aria didn’t have a response, so Spencer tried to answer her own question. “I know a lot of it is hormonal and it’s a normal chemical response across the entire animal kingdom. Academically, I know that. I know the science. And maybe my brain’s supposed to work like that, but it just…doesn’t. And it makes me think I’m going crazy when I still feel normal and literally everyone around us at school is in a constant state of twitterpation. Like I don’t already have enough to deal with from A.”

Aria was lost. “Twitterpation?”

“Yeah, like in Bambi.”

She sat up and turned to look at Spencer, scared, and asked in a hushed whisper. “There was sex in Bambi?!” Then her eyes glazed over. “I _really_ don’t remember that movie.”

“What?! No! Ew!” Spencer scowled. “That’s just their word for when the animals are all horny in the springtime and trying to find a mate. They get all crazy-eyed for their desired partner and blush a lot, but we don’t…see anything. Even still, their intentions were pretty clear.”

“This was in a children’s movie?!”

“It was ahead of its time,” Spencer said. “And now it’s just…weird seeing everyone we know acting that way. Like they’ve been possessed by aliens or something and we’re the only normal ones who know something strange is going on.”

“Invasion of the Body Snatchers,” Aria agreed. “Mike loves it.”

“It’s like one way everyone’s talking about music and books and tomorrow’s test, and then suddenly all that matters is whether a boy knows you exist. And then it’s all dinners and flowers and movie dates and kissing and texting and getting naked and pet names and some seriously obsessive behavior. How do people have time for all that? Don’t they have homework to do? Don’t they have friends? Could they get a job??”

Aria’s mouth opened, but she didn’t know what to say, so she closed it again. Eventually she landed on, “I really don’t know. I mean, I do get the naked part, but—”

“Ew, really? Ew. Wait…have you ever—”

“No!” Aria backpedaled. “No. No, I am definitely not ready for that. But someday, yeah, I think I want to. With a boy. I mean, I feel like I do. The hormones and whatnot. Just, not if it means we have to be boyfriend and girlfriend. That part feels weird to me. Even though I think that makes me a tramp or something.”

“You don’t want a boyfriend?” Spencer was genuinely surprised to hear this.

Aria couldn’t think of a reason why she would, so she shook her head. “Nope.”

“What about Holden Strauss?”

“What? No! No way.”

Spencer sat up on her elbows to shoot Aria a look. “Come on. You were _obsessed_ with him in 7th grade.”

“I wasn’t obsessed.”

Spencer countered, “That’s what an obsessed person would say.” 

“Shut up. I just thought he was cute and wanted him to be my first kiss. That was all, I swear.” Aria held up her hands, as if to push something away. “Nobody said anything about boyfriends.”

“So, was he?”

“What?”

“Your first kiss.”

“Oh, no, that was Paul Hester.” 

“Trombone Paul in jazz band? With the bad haircut?”

“It wasn’t always bad.” Aria looked back at the blank ceiling to aid her visual memory. “Eighth grade lock-in, under the bleachers, right after the movie. I said he could get a little handsy over the shirt if he promised not to use tongue.”

“You sultry minx.”

“I’m a wild woman,” she deadpanned.

“And at the start of the year when you said Mr. Fitz was cute and it was too bad he was a teacher—”

“Oh, that’s because if I were five years older and we met at a bar…” her eyebrows raised suggestively as she grinned, “I’d give him _the night of his life.”_

“Aria!” Spencer laughed, blushing. She reached for the pillow again to restart the battle—a fair attempt at diversion from the awkward moment—but Aria saw it coming and pinned the pillow down with her hand.

“Oh, no you don’t!”

Spencer kept trying to tug it free, but Aria was stronger than her tiny frame let on.

“Aren’t you taking AP History?” she asked. “Shouldn’t you know what a truce means?”

Through gritted teeth, Spencer reminded her, “A Hastings…never…surrenders…”

Aria relented and let Spencer give her one bop on the face with the now wrinkled pillow, if only to put an end to it. “Your family has serious issues.”

“Ha HA! Vanquished,” Spencer beamed.

Aria crossed her arms over her chest as she laid back down in a huff. _“You’ll_ certainly have no trouble finding a boyfriend, what with your endless well of humility and willingness to compromise.”

“Then it’s a good thing I don’t want one, either.” Spencer cozied herself back onto her side of the bed with her hands folded behind her head.

“For real?”

“Not in this life, anyway.” 

Aria considered this and asked, lightheartedly, “Would you rather have a girlfriend? Because that’s totally fi—”

“No, but thank you. Alternate-timeline-lesbian-me appreciates the support.”

Aria smiled and laughed with a little exhale. They were quiet for a minute, then she added, “If you don’t want any relationship at all, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Spencer picked at a loose thread in her comforter, something new to hyper-fixate on. “It doesn’t always feel like it. At least not in this family.”

“Yeah, well, the world sucks sometimes. But I’m not gonna be dating anyone, either, so I guess we can be weird together.” She offered Spencer a small smile. “It actually makes me feel a _lot_ better to know somebody else feels this way, too.”

Sitting up a bit, Spencer looked Aria in the eye. “Hey—you’re not alone, okay? You’ve got me.”

“I know. Thanks.”

The silence resumed as Spencer continued to pick at the white thread. “Hey, can you keep this conversation between us? I’m really not ready for the others to know how I feel about…this stuff.”

“Yeah, of course. I don’t think I really wanna talk about it with them either. My brain hurts just thinking about it.” 

“Thanks,” Spencer said quietly. “I just realized I’ve never actually said any of this stuff out loud before. It kind of makes it real, you know?”

“Yeah. But maybe if you talk about it more, it’ll help?”

Spencer laughed bitterly, “Who would I tell? Melissa, the golden child with her string of fiancés? Or Mona and Jenna, who use everything they know about us against us? God—or my parents, who already think I’m a hopeless case most of the time?”

“You’re not hopeless. You can talk to _us_. We’re your friends.” Aria’s eyes unfocused momentarily, thinking through the scenarios. “Though, if you just tell Emily you don’t want a boyfriend, she’ll probably think you’re coming out.”

“And get the sad puppy dog eyes of disappointment? No, thank you. Meanwhile, Hanna needs boyfriends like she needs oxygen and probably can’t even grasp the concept of feeling like this. I don’t think I have the energy to try.” Spencer let out a deep breath. “Maybe you can tell her for me? I’ll give you a shiny nickel.”

“From your shaving bounty? Nah, you keep your tuition money.” Aria patted Spencer on the arm. “I’m glad you felt safe talking to me.”

“Thanks. Me too.” Spencer reached over to squeeze Aria’s wrist. “I’m really…” She took a deep breath, holding herself together. “I’m really grateful for you, Aria.”

“Okay, calm down, cheeseball.”

“Shut up, I mean it. Don’t ruin my moment,” Spencer whined. “I’m being nice.”

Aria turned on her side and wrapped her free arm across Spencer’s chest, moving closer to rest her forehead on Spencer’s shoulder. “Love you, too.”

Spencer initially resisted the physical gesture in protest of Aria’s teasing, but soon relaxed and settled into the snuggle. It was too comfy not to. “Doofus-head,” she chided.

Both girls closed their eyes in the warmth of the embrace but didn’t fall asleep. Several minutes later, Spencer asked into the darkness, “We’re gonna be spinsters together, right?”

“Obviously,” Aria mumbled. “But, like, the kind that still has awesome taste in clothes and washes their hair.”

“It doesn’t mean you’re old and gross, just that you aren’t married and have no intention to be.”

“Oh,” Aria said. “Then definitely yes.”

“I googled it the other day and saw there’s actually an updated term for an unmarried woman over age 26.”

“You’re such a nerd.”

“Apparently we’ll be ‘thornbacks,’” Spencer said.

“Like in Notre Dame?”

“That’s ‘hunchback,’ dingus.”

Aria reached down to scratch an itch on her ankle. “Thornbacks sounds like a football team.”

“My brain went reptile, but yeah, same difference. It’s kinda badass, though. It implies no one’ll screw with us.”

“True.” Aria’s voice was getting weaker as she drifted closer to sleep.

“How do you feel about Europe?” Spencer asked.

“I like their food.”

Spencer’s imagination painted pictures against the canvas of her eyelids. “We could get a two-bedroom flat in London after we graduate college. And if we find jobs that let us set our own schedules, we could travel out into the continent for a few weeks at a time. You can get pretty much anywhere by train if you’re not in a hurry.”

Aria opened one eye. “I assume in this scenario I am juggling dual careers as a writer and a photographer.”

“One for passion, one for rent money, but both make you happy.”

“Wait, which one’s which?”

Spencer frowned. “I’m not in charge of your emotions. You figure that out.”

“And what are _you_ doing in London? I don’t think horseback riding is a job. Or is it? In Europe.”

“I’ll probably be a consultant. One of those people companies hire on to fix their problems, and then they leave as soon as it’s figured out.”

“That’d be good for you,” Aria agreed. “You get to be in charge without being tied down. Smart.”

“That, or we could open a little French bakery together.”

Aria looked up at this. “Since when do you bake?”

“Hey,” Spencer huffed. “Let me have nice things. Like my imaginary French bakery with a cobblestone oven and stained glass windows. It’s quaint but locally popular, and it always smells good, like fresh croissants.”

“Don’t hire Paige. Her cookies are crap.”

“Well, we’re gonna need someone to run it while we’re out traveling. But we can keep our options open.”

“Are you married to London?” Aria asked. The further Spencer went down this rabbit hole, the more invested she was becoming, herself. “Because I think I’d prefer Barcelona.”

“We could do that. I figure we’d just be starting in London to use Melissa’s contacts and establish a base network. But then we’d be able to go anywhere you want.”

Aria smiled. “Careful—you’re making me actually wanna do this.”

“Good. And it’s more fun to think about than this stupid college party, or A.” Spencer let that sit, then added, “I have to hold on to the hope that we’ll get out of here someday.”

“We will. I know we will.” Aria pulled Spencer a little closer and relaxed again. “Speaking of, how long until we need to leave?”

“An hour and a half, I think?” Spencer reached for her phone and set an alarm for 7:15, then put it back on the nightstand. “But can we not move yet? I’ll need my strength to navigate all the co-ed hormone bombs.”

“Yes, please,” Aria hummed into Spencer’s side. Soon the only sounds were the ticking clock on the other side of the room and rise and fall of Spencer’s chest in Aria’s ear. Five minutes later, she turned her head up toward the light, eyes still closed. “Fuck, I’m going to have to learn Spanish, aren’t I?”

Spencer drifted back from the brink of sleep and frowned slightly. “For the party?”

“Yes, for a Pennsylvania college party,” Aria said dryly. “But I think it’ll come in handy when we move to Barcelona. Guess I’ll add that to my list.”

“I’ll help you,” Spencer mumbled. “Not now. Sleep now.”

“I thought you’re taking French?”

“SLEEEEEP.”

Thirty seconds later, Aria moved her head again. “Is Spanish Fly a real thing?”

Spencer didn’t have to open her eyes to find the pillow on the other side of the bed. Thwacking Aria twice with what little energy she had, she then placed the pillow on top of Aria’s head and rested her own face against it, as if to smother her friend underneath. Gently.

Aria squirmed a bit, repositioning to have a clearer airway, but didn’t extricate herself from the ridiculous position. Maybe it was comfortable under there, or she was too tired to fight back. Maybe she just wanted to prove a point. She groaned. _“See? Issues.”_

But Aria could have the last word for now. Something told Spencer they had their whole lifetimes to spar and play like this. Exhaling heavily, Spencer smiled into the pillow, placed her hand on the arm still draped across her stomach, and was soon fast asleep. 


End file.
